Tunnel Vision
by QuirkyKirsty
Summary: Azami was literally born ready, thanks to the memories of another life ingrained in her head. Problem is, the starting line is about thirty years in the future. So she's got some time to kill—hopefully the detour won't cause too many ripples…
1. Overture

Title: Tunnel Vision

Genre: action/adventure/friendship

Rating: T

Summary: Azami was literally born ready, thanks to the memories of another life ingrained in her head. Problem is, the starting line is about thirty years in the future. So she's got some time to kill—hopefully the detour won't cause too many ripples…

* * *

 _Overture._

* * *

Pounding footsteps echoed through the quiet neighborhood, at just past six in the morning. A lone figure jogged past the rows of squat, two-storied buildings at a brisk pace. Though it was still winter with spring on the way, it was unusually cold that morning, and the runner's breath came in a fine white mist as she made her way down the street. After a turn at the convenience store a few blocks down, she ran up a short flight of public stairs, and finally traded the residential area for the public pathway by the river that wound its way alongside the neighborhood.

Azami Kōjō was out for her morning run, part of the exercise regime she'd set for herself a little over a year ago. While tough going at first, by now she was used to waking up early and forcing herself through the circuit that looped in and around the neighborhood until she made it back home. It wasn't even hard now; at this point she'd only worked up a light sweat. Today, though, she ran with single-minded focus, trying to keep her thoughts to a minimum, until a welcome distraction came in the form of a second runner falling into step besides her, and Azami perked up with a grin.

"Hey! You made it," she said cheerfully, and Hanao Inui only moaned in response.

"I almost didn't," he said, "Last night I thought I'd sleep in but… I couldn't! I was too nervous. I just rolled around all night." Hanao sighed, shoulders slumped in despair. "Maybe this'll help so I'm not all wound up."

There was a short silence as the two continued their run, both falling into thought again; Hanao, scowling as he tried to clear his head of anything but the running, and Azami looking more thoughtful instead.

"I wish U.A. had early placement exams," she said suddenly, and Hanao almost tripped over his own feet.

"What? I don't!" he protested, "Why?"

"Then I could get it over with and forget about the regular schools," said Azami, "I mean, Dad's making me sit four more regular exams this month. It's a pain. But if I got in early then I wouldn't have to sign up for that stuff."

"Um… that's if you even get accepted in the first place," said Hanao, "Early exams are hard enough. I bet U.A. would want you to have a perfect report card to even try. Plus the practical would be different… I dunno, they have hero recommendations for that."

"Eh," Azami said, "You're probably right. Still would be nice."

"Not like I could take something like that anyway! I barely got high enough grades for the general exam," Hanao said, and sighed heavily. "I don't even know how prepared for the practical I am."

"Hey, did you ask your brother?" Azami asked, but Hanao shook his head.

"He wouldn't say," he said gloomily, "Just laughed."

"If he made it, then we probably have a good chance, considering," Azami said, before her expression dropped. "As long as it isn't robots."

"Why are you so hung up on robots!?"

"Why wouldn't I be? My quirk won't affect them." As they spoke, the two crested a small hill. The rising sun struck at just so, and Azami's eyes flashed gold for the briefest of moments before dying away. Hanao just coughed.

"Uh, mine won't really either," he pointed out, tapping the side of his nose— or rather, the side of his dog-like snout where a normal human nose would be.

"Hmm… we'll just have to stick together and help each other out. U.A. or bust and all that."

"I mean, it's not the end of the world. There's always Shiketsu. Or Ketsubutsu? I applied to those, too… Did you get the paperwork in on time?"

Silence. Azami went quiet, keeping her gaze unusually fixed on the ground.

"…Azami? You… did apply for backups, right?" Hanao asked, but the horrified realization was already dawning as Azami chose to increase the pace instead of answer. "Y-you didn't? I told you! I told you to apply! You promised you would! H-Hey, come back!"

In a burst of speed, Azami broke into a flat run with Hanao hot on her heels and howling at her back as he tried to keep up. " _Azami!_ You can't do this to me! You can't pin everything on U.A. and hope for the best! You need backups! Second choices! Plans!"

"We both decided on U.A. didn't we?" Azami yelled over her shoulder, "So we just need to pass the exam on the first try! No big deal!"

"This is the _biggest deal!_ It's the top hero school in the country, _what if you don't make it in?"_

"I dunno, I'll just go ronin or something until next year!"

"This is high school, you can't do that! Azamiiiii!" And so it went, the casual morning jog turning into a heat sprint as Azami ignored the panicked shouts of her friend entirely all through the rest of their usual route.

* * *

Hanao dropped off eventually at his usual turn, glaring daggers at her back as he went, and Azami was alone again as she completed the route. The impromptu run left her breathing heavily as she crossed the gate to the Kōjō household; maybe the extra exertion hadn't been the greatest idea. She hadn't wanted to face Hanao though, not after her silent admittance— so she hadn't applied to any other hero school. That was her choice. And, well… she just couldn't think of the best way to explain how applying to U.A. was the only thing that felt _right._ That applying to some other hero school felt… _wrong._ Like a betrayal. Or the strange insistent feeling that if she couldn't get into U.A., then there almost no point to being a hero at all.

And if that wasn't the most un-heroic thing, because she wanted to be a Hero, she really did, it was just… after all these years, there was no fighting the gut reaction that balked at considering any other school than U.A., the best of the best hero academies in Japan… maybe in the world.

It was still quiet as Azami let herself inside, covered in cooling sweat. Apparently the other member of the house wasn't up yet, but then it was only about half past seven now. She went up the stairs as quietly as possible just in case, tip-toeing down the hall to the bathroom for a quick rinse. The shower worked wonders in warming her up, and raising her spirits enough to forcibly step on some of the rising doubt she had— but there was no stopping the anxiousness, sitting in her stomach like a stone.

A flash of color caught her eye as she toweled off. It came from the bathroom mirror, fogged over with steam. Azami regarded the warped reflection of herself in silence. Then with one hand she wiped a patch of glass clean, and stared at image that appeared. As always, the fierce gold of her eyes stared back— the only physical manifestation of her Quirk, visible to anyone who looked for it. With a slow blink, she regarded them with careful consideration, and _flexed._ The activation of her quirk was subtle— but still strange to see as the irises themselves gathered, shrinking in circumference as a raised, ridged circle appeared around unchanged pupils. Nothing happened outwardly— there was nothing for her quirk to affect and with an equally subtle release, the ridges subsided, expanding her irises back to their usual size and flatness.

Then Azami took in the rest of the face that her eyes were set in. A face that was a little too round to be called heart shaped, with full cheeks that more than gave away her youth. A delicate nose, the faintest dusting of freckles, the wavy hair falling over her ears that she'd cut short herself last month as a part of her preparation, that stubbornly stuck up even when wet from the shower. The red hair that had reminded her dad of a thistle on the day she was born, he'd told her, when she'd asked why she was named the way she was.

The more she stared, the more the reflection seemed to slip away from her. For a long minute Azami did not comprehend the person staring back, and phantom images superimposed themselves over features that were familiar one moment and foreign the next. For a long moment she saw someone else that— was not her. Azami drew a deep breath; she hadn't felt like this for a while, too caught up with the present, but every now and then she caught herself slipping just like this moment. All it took was a little reminder.

"I am me," she told herself, told the person in the mirror firmly, "I'm Azami Kōjō. I am myself."

 _And I am not you._

The phantom features faded away. Azami was herself again— the reflection in the mirror familiar as always. As the patch of mirror clouded over, she backed away and left for the comfort of her bedroom and fresh set of clothes.

There was one last thing to do. Once dressed in her choice of clothes for the coming day— comfortable sports clothes, not too baggy but easy to run and jump and generally move around in— Azami fished out a notebook from her dresser. A very particular notebook that she'd hidden carefully; not that her dad was in the habit of invading her privacy and nosing around in her things, but to be on the safe side she'd buried it in the one place she knew he'd never, even dare touch— safely in the underwear drawer. She didn't exactly want him reading what was inside, filled with her scribbles of things she'd written down in order to study, analyze.

Now flipped through the pages, watching rows of characters in her messy handwriting fly by until she stopped at one page marked with a red bookmark.

 _Deku enters the U.A. campus,_ it read. Followed by more passages, listed in bullet points step-by-step.

 _Deku is saved by Ochako._

 _U.A. exam begins._

 _Test format is search-and-destroy targets (robots)_

 _Each robot is worth different points._

 _Practical exam can be passed through a combination of—_

And so it went. On and on, different passages flashed up at her as she read, skimming over each page— _Practical exam passed. Deku begins classes. Hero training— Class trip to U.S.J— Sports Festival— Hero Killer—_

She shut the book. Within it was a detailed plan, step by step, of everything she could remember on the subject. It wasn't the only notebook— the drawer contained even more, filled more of the same lists, but also profiles, theories, guesses and musings, anything at all she thought to write down for future perusal, because the thoughts— _memories?—_ would come and go, sometimes prompted by the most random, mundane thing, and Azami couldn't bring herself to ignore them, driven by the same gut instinct that drove her to apply U.A. out of all the hero schools out there, because it was U.A. where everything would happen. It was U.A. that was the focus of everything, _everything_ important and she had to _remember_ everything that came to her before it was lost again—

…She didn't need to be dwelling on this again. Setting the first notebook on her desk, Azami dug the rest of the notebooks from their hiding place. Then she swept them all together into a box she'd saved for this exact purpose, until they all lay jumbled together. Then she shut the box, and proceeded to tape the living daylights out of it. Not an inch of cardboard went unexposed, until the entire thing was covered in a thick layer of packing tape and duct tape together; if she wanted to open it, she'd need a box cutter just to rip through the protective layer and ruin her hard work. With that finished, Azami took a thick marker and wrote in large letters across the top: DO NOT OPEN UNTIL: FIFTEEN YEARS TO THIS DATE. Then she wrote the date in question.

There. Admiring her handy work, Azami then took the box and shoved the entire thing under her bed where it would hopefully collect dust and remain undisturbed for however long it took. Sure, maybe she'd need it sooner than the open-by date. Maybe something would happen and she'd need some crucial piece of information hidden within the mound of notebooks now sealed away. But until then, Azami had decided that she didn't need the weight of her knowledge pressing down on her, adding to the awful mix of nerves and uncertainty already swirling around in her at the thought of what was to come.

Right now she needed her full focus on what lay immediately in front of her— and not the distraction of something that wasn't even going to happen for another fifteen years in the future.

* * *

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Hello and welcome to my foray into bnha! Here I am with my next for-fun project, hhhahahaha what am I doing guess I'll see where this goes. As you can tell, this is something that'll be super speculative with a lot of new faces in and out, but don't worry, there'll be some familiar ones that'll show up along the way and play big parts.

Plus I wanted to play with something third person for once. Probably you could call Azami an SI/OC, but not quite a straight reincarnation fic.

Hope you enjoy the adventure, and thanks for coming by!


	2. Entrance Exam I

Title: Tunnel Vision

Genre: action/adventure/friendship

Rating: T

Summary: Azami was literally born ready, thanks to the memories of another life ingrained in her head. Problem is, the starting line is about thirty years in the future. So she's got some time to kill—hopefully the detour won't cause too many ripples…

* * *

Entrance Exam I.

* * *

As the clock hit nine and Azami still found herself the only living soul in the Kojo household, she was understandably concerned. Not for the usual reasons. With heavy suspicion she knocked at Manabu Kojo's bedroom door, to no response. She felt no shame in barging in, and was completely unsurprised by the neatly made, very un-slept in bed inside. There was only one room left in the house he could be in; Azami didn't even bother knocking before throwing open the door to his self-proclaimed 'office' with a sharp " _Dad_!"

On first glance the 'office' was empty, too. But with the blackout-curtains drawn and all the computers shut off, it was easy to miss the huddled lump in the corner, and she didn't notice until she impatiently flicked on the light— prompting a strangled moan.

" _Azamiiii…"_

Azami jumped an inch despite herself. There, in the corner, was her dad all right— wrapped in a blanket so tightly he resembled some kind of insect cocoon more than a person. In response to the light and noise, a miserable face emerged from the cocoon, winced in pain, and retreated again, croaking. "The light… turn it off…"

Azami did, more instinctively than anything else even in her exasperation. She recognized those symptoms.

"Dad," she asked, making sure to drop her voice to whisper rather than shout again, "Were you up all night?" The muffled noise could have meant anything, but she took it as the admission it was and slapped a hand over her face. Then she ran to get a glass of water and her dad's usual headache pills.

Manabu Kojo, entirely of his own doing, was suffering the drawbacks of Quirk overuse. It was known as Hyper Focus, and worked exactly as it sounded. Anything he focused on he _focused_ on, to a degree well beyond the scope of what the normal human was capable of. He could make out any minute detail, could catch any micro movement so long as it was in front of him, and commit it to memory— even from some distance away. But it came with its natural drawbacks; namely, if his focus were forcibly broken, or simply used too long, he would suffer from eyestrain, blinding migraines, or both, and need several hours to recover. Azami had seen it enough over the years to recognize when he'd overdone it, not that it was hard. She knelt by the cocoon with water and pill bottle in hand, though it took some prodding for him to respond. His blanket fell away and a hand snaked out to grab the pill; he dry-swallowed it even with his shaking fingers.

The man finally emerging from his blanket was not someone at his best looking, but in all brutal honesty he rarely was. Manabu, when pushed, would describe himself as someone 'unsuited' to meeting expected societal standards, and thus saw no reason in conforming to match someone else's pre-conceived notions of good appearances. Besides, he was too 'shy' to leave the house much and had 'trouble making connections' with others so all that didn't really matter anyway.

Azami just called him a neet.

In any case, Manabu was both plain and unassuming, running on the tall and thinner side (from forgetting to eat) with black hair usually tied back and not often brushed (and usually a little lanky.) his only distinguishing features were his eyes—the same golden color he had passed down to his daughter. Now he squinted, blearily attempting to focus on the girl squatting in front of him.

"Water," Azami prompted. He took the glass, attempted a smile, and sipped at it gingerly. "Sooo… binging, huh? Even though I told you to go to bed? Yesterday? You know, after you'd been playing all day?"

"I know," he rasped, "I… was going to stop. I really was. But I started thinking about your test, and how hard you've been working… I just got so anxious, I logged back on to take my mind off it…"

"It would be really nice if everyone would just let _me_ be anxious for me, for once," Azami said with a deadpan expression and Manabu winced from something other than pain.

"Sorry, honey… daddy messed up… I was going to see you off…"

"Yeah, don't say that. It's fine." She shook her head, but couldn't help feeling less annoyed with him than she did before. Her dad meant well, and after years of living with him, she knew the sentiment was always true. He just couldn't help himself on these sorts of things. Because of his… issues, Manabu rarely left the house, and supported the both of them entirely from his 'job' as a pro gamer— really just an outlet for his gaming addiction. This wasn't the first time Azami had found him, crippled from overusing his Quirk to read online opponents.

And now he wouldn't be going anywhere for the rest of the day. She wanted to be mad, just a little… but seeing his crestfallen expression took off some of the edge, and she couldn't bring herself to do so.

The U.A. exams were at eleven o'clock, and it would take an hour to get there on just the train. Then she'd have to catch a bus for the last leg. There wasn't much time left to stay, and she'd already eaten, so Azami used her last few minutes making sure the curtains in the house were closed, and leaving some breakfast out for her dad when he felt like eating. Then it was grabbing her backpack, with an extra change of clothes (just in case) and the information she'd need for the exam…

Then it was time to go.

One small bright point came; in a show of willpower, Manabu managed to shuffle all the way downstairs and follow Azami to the door. He still had his blanket wrapped around him, but the medicine kicked in enough that he wasn't nearly as cross-eyed. Before Azami opened the front door and released sunlight into the house, he drew her in for massive hug.

"Good luck, Azami," he said, "I think you're going to do great. I _know_ you're going to be great. You've accomplished more at your age than I ever did, anyway." He said this with a rueful smile.

"Aw, dad…"

"Haha. It's true. I don't have half the motivation. Maybe we don't have the," he winced and rubbed his head, "flashiest of quirks, but I've no doubt that you're going to give all those other kids a run for their money." A final squeeze and she was free. Azami was quick to open the door then, because she was impatient to leave and definitely not because she was touched by her dad's words and felt her eyes getting hot from not-tears. The moment light hit the floor, Manabu ruined the mood by hastily retreating to the safety of darkness. But he still waved as Azami stepped out, squashing down her misgivings as she set off down the road and to the station.

On to U.A.

* * *

One train ride later she'd made it to the bus station and there was whole lot of kids packed into the shuttle.

Every available seat was occupied, and the aisles were similarly stuffed with excited examinees chattering up a storm. It was a good thing she'd set out early, because there were still a few bus's worth of kids waiting back at the station, and the shuttles up to U.A. were running non-stop back and forth to accommodate them.

Azami was stock still, eyes fixed out the opposite window as she sat wedged with Hanao on one side, and a boy who looked like he was covered spines rather than arm hair on the other. She tried very hard not to bump into him.

"Uh, are you okay?" Hano asked—near shouted— over the din, "You look kinda, out of it."

"I'm fine," she said automatically even though she really wasn't. She was, in fact, trying very hard not to let her nerves get to her. Because if she started panicking, then Hanao would start panicking, and she'd start panicking more trying to not panic, and— yeah, she was a bit of a mess right now. One half of her had started screaming internally the moment she stepped on the bus to U.A., and the other half had reacted by clamping down on the screaming side with an iron grip to keep it from leaking out. Then there was the third-party side of her that only felt awe that she was going to _U.A. Academy_. Well, for the tests, anyway. There was still the whole passing-the-exam thing.

….Maybe she should've applied to Shiketsu when she had the time.

The shuttle came to a stop. The standing examinees all lurched forward, then began pouring out the open doors. They were there. They'd arrived…. Azami found herself frozen stiff to the seat. Hanao, who had picked up more from her two-word answer and probably could smell the nerves rolling off of her, tugged at her arm, and she finally shuffled zombie-like off the bus along with everyone else. Together they joined the crowd spilling out onto the brick walkway along with former middle schoolers of literally every shape and color. A kid literally bounced his way through the crowd, probably due to the springs he had instead of regular human knees.

"…There's a lot of people." The small voice said at her side. Hanao, initially pulling her from the bus in her stupor, was now shrinking back and edging behind her. He'd always been on the uncertain side, easily overwhelmed by crowds. His nose was twitching madly, no doubt taking in hundreds of individual scents and emotions; an unfortunate drawback of his Quirk.

They didn't need the both of them feeling nervous. So she thought of Hanao, her friend, and she thought of her dad, smiling even in the middle of his self-inflicted pain. Azami took a deep breath, straightened her spine, and flashed a reassuring grin.

"Yeah, there's a ton of people," she said, "But we are _not_ gonna let this get to us." To emphasize, she stuck her balled fists at her sides and made a power stance.

"Erm… too late," Hanao muttered. Azami bumped him with a jutted hip.

"Look at it this way," she said, "It's like All Might always says."

"Huh?" At mention of the #1 hero he perked up, in time to see Azami square up and thrust out a hand with two fingers extended— the symbol for victory.

"Tremble in fear, U.A. Academy!" she bellowed, right in front of the streaming crowds, right at the entrance to U.A. and looking up at the towering building before them, "For _we are here!"_

Heads whipped around to see the source of all the shouting. There was a momentary lull in conversation, and then various snickers broke out all around them. Hanao looked horrified.

"Shh! _Shhh!_ Stop! Why would you do that?" He hissed, trying to get her to lower her arm while looking as inconspicuous as possible.

"It's scientifically proven that standing in this kind of position increases confidence and lowers stress," Azami said, still holding her pose but unable to break from it due to her own stage fright.

"…..Yeah, I don't know you," Hanao deadpanned, but—there— his mouth was definitely twitching. Maybe it hadn't been a bust after all.

"And that's fine! Let's just go in." Now was the time to rush in and keep her head down for the rest of the day. She took one massive step forward, and— promptly crashed into a very wide and very solid wall.

"Oh! Pardon me." Wait, it was actually an _extremely_ broad back. "I guess I shouldn't have stopped. Sorry for blocking you."

Azami looked up— and up again, staring blankly into the face of what appeared to be an actual lion. Wearing glasses.

"It's no problem," she said automatically, and the lion smiled, revealing a mouth full of very sharp and intimidating teeth.

"I like what you said back there," he said, "It was very spirited. Good luck on the exam to you." He nodded, and turned back to join mingle in the crowd. She could still see him as he moved away; he stood more than a head taller over the other examinees.

Azami and Hanao, who'd seen the whole thing, stood in silence. Then Azami looked at her friend with a serious expression.

"Yeah, that guy's gonna eat us alive," she said, and Hanao put his head in his hands.

* * *

Inside the academy— and they were finally inside the academy!— The two received an individual ID and an information packet before being ushered along to a massive hall. There were hundreds and hundreds of seats, every single one of them being filled by the second; it would be a packed audience today. The podium in front was empty, so Azami looked at the packet they'd been given and flipped over the first page.

"First up is the practical exam, then a break period, and then the written exam?" she said on seeing the schedule inside, "Sounds kind of rough. Everyone'll be keyed up from the physical."

"A bunch of these pages are disclaimers," Hanao said, flipping through his own packet, "It's a little ominous." The two were seated together, but from the looks of the numbers stamped on the corners of the packets, they would not be together for the actual exams themselves. They traded looks, one nervous and one trying their best not to be.

"I _do_ think you'll be fine," said Azami, nudging him with one elbow. "Your Quirk is pretty handy when you think about it. I mean, being able to smell anything and everything? Whatever the practical is, you'll sniff your way around it like," she snapped her fingers, "That."

"…I guess," said Hanao, "Ryo-nii actually helped me train all this last month. He thought I'd have a good chance, so there's that. Though," he said with a grimace, "You have to think of the downsides. There's a million scents in here. Like that one." He nodded at a boy a few rows down, with what appeared to be pipes sticking out his elbows, "He smells like exhaust, it's kind of gross. There's someone over who ate a ton of garlic last night. And… oh." He sniffed the air, blinking. "That's not bad. Something smells really… citrus-y? I can't tell if it's someone or something they ate."

Such was the properties of Hanao's Quirk, Bloodhound. Thanks to his nose, he could discern many individual scents, or with the right focus, could track a singular scent for extreme distances. Of course, his nose could easily be overpowered by particular strong or smelly scents, or muddle from too many sources, such as the hall they were currently seated in.

Azami opened her mouth to respond, but was silenced when the lights in the hall dimmed. The chatter quieted as a figure began walking to the podium, but rose again in excitement as she stepped into the spotlight. Hanao's eyes lit up, and he fidgeted eagerly in his chair.

"Oh gosh, it's Silky!" he whispered, "I didn't know she worked at U.A.!"

"Who?" Azami whispered back. Hanao looked scandalized.

"How could you not recognize Silky? You know, the aerodynamic hero, with the Slipstream Quirk?"

"I don't pay attention to celebrity stuff."

"Why not!?"

The rest of his admonishment was cut off as the pro-hero Silky tapped a finger on her microphone, and gave the room a dazzling smile. She was unquestionably a beautiful woman; her long black hair ran in perfect waves down her back and shoulders. Her hero suit was equally as sleek, a white one-piece leotard that glittered under the lights from the dozens of silver scales etched delicately into the sides. Personally, Azami thought the deep V-neck was zipped down a little lower on her chest than it need to be, but heroes were showy like that, so it was probably a sex-appeal kind of thing.

"Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to this wonderful institution of learning." Silky's voice filled the room, just as smooth and refined as her appearance. "On behalf of the staff of U.A., I thank you for coming out today for the most important exam you will ever take in your young lives."

"Dramatic," Azami whispered. Hanao shushed her.

"I am, of course, talking about the Hero course practical exam," she continued. A screen flickered to life behind her, and her cultured smiled seemed to grow into a different of smile all together, one with a predatory flash of teeth. "Since I'm sure you all already know why you are here and what you're in for… Let's get to the good part, shall we? If you would turn to the first section of your information pamphlet, we will go over the content of the practical and what you will need to pass."

The room filled with the hurried shuffle of pages. Azami quickly looked down to follow Silky's words, and Hanao was right, there were an awful lot of disclaimers in the front section of the booklet…

"Once you're ready, look to the screen behind me for further clarification."

Where was the practical section? Azami felt annoyance growing, along with a touch of… unease? Wait, there was section one, titled in bold black letters.

"The name of this practical is—"

Oh, no.

Azami felt her mouth go very, very dry. Her hands went limp, and the page she was holding slipped from her fingers.

CRIMINAL PURSUIT SIMULATION OUTSKIRTS EDITION: SEARCH AND DESTROY, said the words emblazoned across the wide screen for all the room to see. And below the same title printed in her booklet, were a series of photos of what she'd been dreading to see all along.

"Hanao," Azami moaned, as she dropped her head in despair, "It's robots."

"…We're facing _robots."_

* * *

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Azami's Quirk isn't Hyper Focus!

Haha also, Hanao's big brother is Hound Dog btw.

Thank you very much for the likes and follows! And thanks to Red raspberries, HaPPy2901, and Night . Sky . 21 for your reviews. I'm glad you enjoyed the first chapter! I'll do my best to keep it up.

As for the rest, thanks for dropping by! :)


	3. Entrance Exam II

Title: Tunnel Vision

Genre: action/adventure/friendship

Rating: T

Summary: Azami was literally born ready, thanks to the memories of another life ingrained in her head. Problem is, the starting line is about thirty years in the future. So she's got some time to kill—hopefully the detour won't cause too many ripples…

a/n: I swear actual characters start showing up here.

* * *

Entrance Exam II.

* * *

 _I don't think it turned out as bad as you think it did._

"Go away."

 _No, really—_

"Seriously, shut up. I don't want to deal with you right now."

 _I'm just saying, there's more to the entrance exam than punching ro—_

"I don't want to hear it!"

 _But… it's stuff you know already, it's literally written on page thirty-six—_

"I said _shut up!"_ Azami spun around and— woke up. Panting heavily, twisted around in her covers, with her pillow thrown halfway across the room. She groaned and let her arm fall back on the mattress.

It had been a while since she'd had a 'conversation.' She'd more or less trained herself out of them years ago, but occasionally they would still come up, and she blamed the stress. Something about moments of emotional turmoil seemed to trigger the 'conversations' in her sleep, where the _other side_ of her that inexplicably… knew things almost seemed to manifest as a separate identity enough to actually talk back. Which was, weird. Definitely not a usual thing people went through. It was worse than the double-vision she still got from mirrors every now and then.

The 'other side' had been pretty insistent this time around, but with everything that had happened last week, well. Maybe it wasn't so surprising. Azami found her thoughts drifting to the sealed box underneath her bed. Part of dealing with the… things she somehow knew, included writing everything down in an attempt to clear her head, and maybe her own thoughts had a point… maybe there was something written down that could help her work around what had happened—

 _No_. Nope. She was notgoing to give in to this. She was _not_ going to depend on suspicious, second-hand knowledge.

Now in a thoroughly bad mood, Azami stomped across the room to retrieve her pillow and then wrapped herself back up in her blankets. The clock said it was still early morning, she had every right to go straight back to sleep.

Hopefully she wouldn't dream up a conversation again.

And hopefully she wouldn't dream up the source of her stress.

Stupid U.A. and its stupid entrance exam.

* * *

 _One week earlier_

There was a tension in the air that hadn't been there before. Walking up to U.A. proper had been… exhilarating, giddy, filled with anticipation and now the mood was a hundred times more subdued. There was still a crowd of chattering middle-schoolers, but there was an edge to their smiles, and laughter was more nervous as they stood at the entrance of the physical exam. There was entire miniature city rising up in front of them— and Azami was struck with an odd sensation of, disappointment? Bafflement? Considering that she'd come half-expecting skyscrapers and asphalt, and not… all of this.

The Outskirts Zone, as it had been called in the orientation, was a vaguely un-safe looking collection of warehouses, towers, and winding walkways. Even under broad daylight it looked shadowy and ominous, a place that parents would warn their children to stay away from. Currently the entrance was blocked off by the rusted chain fence along the perimeter, but the corrugated bridge beyond was open-aired on either side; the entire zone seemed to be sunken into the ground, depth indeterminate.

She swallowed, heavily, feeling the nerves again. Hanao hadn't been assigned this zone, and it was weird without her usual companion at her side. It wasn't that she was shy, but… it definitely helped, to have a familiar someone to bounce her personality off of. Especially surrounded by a group fellow examinees— essentially all her rivals. Every single one of them had the potential to take her spot in U.A.'s incoming freshman class.

A siren split the air and jolted her out of her thoughts. All chatting abruptly stopped; some had tensed, some were looking around for the source of the noise. The exam hadn't started, had it!? …no, the gate was stilled closed.

" _Please move to the starting gates, one and all!"_ The voice of the pro-hero Silky echoed around them— " _As stated earlier, you will have exactly fifteen minutes for your physical exam. You may use your quirks to their full extent, but sabotaging or otherwise harming your fellow examinees is forbidden. The test will begin and end on the siren; I will not count down. Ready yourselves, children!"_

Any remaining light atmosphere was gone. The crowd was surging forward to the gate— suddenly Azami found herself jostled by elbows and other appendages. She remembered the walkway and quickly moved forward herself; she didn't want to be stuck in the pack and end up jostled over the side. And her quirk wouldn't give her any advantage in catching up if she went last— well, not in a way that was allowed, anyway.

The siren had not sounded. Dozens stood half-crouched or otherwise at the ready. A boy next to her was almost vibrating, standing in a strange ready-stance with fists up and upper arms parallel to his body. Probably to help with whatever the round pipes sticking out of his elbows would do. Another kid licked his lips with a forked tongue. Azami took a deep breath and settled into a half-crouch, ready to run like hell as soon as the signal came. Unlike a lot of other quirks she'd seen just from appearances… her Quirk wasn't flashy. It wouldn't help out one bit for this— she'd have to directly compete with everyone else on her own merit.

And if that didn't scare her more than anything else...

Gate. Bridge. Testing zone. Everything else around her fell away as Azami focused on the way forward, and when the starting siren blared and the rusted gate rolled away, she was one of the first to grind her heels to the ground and _run into the—_

* * *

"…Outskirts edition?" Hanao echoed Silky's words with some confusion. Meanwhile, the _thunk_ of Azami's head dropping to the desk was swallowed up in the murmur of the crowd.

"Where there is light, there are also shadows left in its wake," Silky spoke, as the words flashed on the screen. "We pro-heroes combat that darkness that takes shape in the form of Villains. While we have earned our licenses through training and certification at institutes such as U.A., certain individuals rebel against society and use their quirks illegally, for nefarious purposes." She paused, gazing around the room with a serious expression, before sliding right back to her dazzling smile. "When faced with the authorities, most villains act on basic instinct— to run and hide so they might fight another day. This practical exam module is as follows; a simulation, where you will chase down proxy villains fleeing the scene of the crime. Think of it as a game of cops and robbers. Well, rather," she tilted her head, "a game of Heroes and Villains."

* * *

It was the right choice to start at the front of the crowd as the examinees surged forth in a stampede. The boy with the elbow-pipes didn't hesitate— he blew past Azami like a rocket, shooting off down the bridge as the main group spilled forward. The Outskirts zone _was_ sunken; she could see the 'streets' down below; they were nearly a story up. Not that it stopped some examinees from jumping _off_ the bridge in whatever way available to them— wings, appendages, there was one girl jumping to the side of a warehouse and sticking there, and another kid who went all wavy on the edges and just _appeared_ on a walkway further down—but Azami stuck to the main path in front of her and kept running, trying to stay ahead of the crowd. It was part of the plan she'd come up with two minutes ago; obviously she couldn't compete head-to-head with the flashy battle types, so she'd have to strike out and run into the mock villains before anyone else got to them—

There was very little warning when the first of the villains came smashing through the windows of a warehouse and poured out directly in front of her.

* * *

"Given the obvious danger of fighting real villains," Silky said, images flashing on the wide screen behind her, "you'll make do with these mock ones instead. There are three types of villains you will be facing, each worth a different a certain point value. First, the one-pointer—" A single robot appeared, enlarged for all of them to see. "It is the smallest of the mock villains. You will find that all this robot will do is run, very fast. You can try to catch them if you can. Though they're small and only worth one point, they will travel in swarms, so perhaps the more… enterprising among you will find a way to turn their actions into an advantage."

* * *

Silky hadn't been exaggerating when she said they traveled in _swarms._ Azami skidded to a startled stop, to avoid running headlong into the actual literal flood pooling onto the walkway. Each one-pointer was smaller than her head; steely-grey bodies were supported by six spidery legs, and singular antenna. She stared at them, dumbstruck by how quickly the one-pointers had appeared, and her hesitation cost the initiative as a group of examinees blew past her; the swarm of robots promptly scattered hastily into the wind.

Hasty being an understatement.

"What the _hell?"_ Azami burst out as the little robots _booked it_ , skittering legs a blur as they ran for dear life from the horde descending on them. She kicked herself into gear and started running again, but she wasn't nearly fast enough to outpace the speedy mock villains. The opportunity was literally running away from her because of her hesitation— Spurred on by anger Azami dug in her toes and sprinted at what was left of the swarm; They squeaked, movements more erratic, striking up a memory from orientation that the one-pointers would panic if under duress—

"HA!"

Azami pounced. She pushed all her power into a single leap, bodily throwing herself forward just as a robot swerved, spooked by another examinee, directly underneath her. A _thud;_ the air whooshed from her lungs from the impact, but pinned underneath was a single squirming one-pointer.

"Yes, yes!" She jumped to her feet and grabbed it, holding it triumphantly above her head, "Hell yeah—"

"Move!"

Five thin wires snapped from behind her, shooting out to strike five one-pointers at once. There was a boy behind, hand outstretched as the wires returned to his fingertips with squirming one-pointers in tow. More wires extended from his other hand, snagging three more as the last surprise horde vanished into the zone. Azami stared blankly at her singular one-pointer. It had stopped wiggling and seemingly deactivated.

" _Dammit_!" She smashed it against the ground. What the _hell_ was she getting excited over _one point_ for? Some kid was already seven points ahead of her _at the least._ Chasing after one-pointers wasn't feasible at all, not with her abilities. She had to go bigger and make up for the point deficient that way. And the only way to do _that_ would be to start running again.

There was a spiraling metal staircase up ahead and she took it, rushing down the steps in a clatter of metal, nearly tripping in her haste to reach the next level down— into a scene of absolute chaos. Dozens of other kids hadn't hesitated at all to spread out on the streets, and more than one had already flushed out the second kind of mock villain—

* * *

"Next, the three point mock villains."

The image changed on the slide again, prompting an uneasy shiver through the room. "Yes, you'll see that the overall appearance has changed with the point increase. They are worth more, and the difficulty level has risen accordingly. These mock villains are more… temperamental, than their comrades. They will remain initially hidden from your view, but once discovered, these mock villains prefer a more active approach to evading capture."

Silky gave the room another brilliant smile.

* * *

In a screech of metal on concrete, a three-pointer went careening down the street, only to find itself surrounded. Unlike the one-pointers, it was not small. Rising well over the tallest examinee on four long metal legs, it chattered angrily as the bolder of examinees charged— prompting the two fully automated turrets protruding from its body to arm themselves and fire on the crowd.

* * *

"Don't worry! We don't fire live bullets on our campus," Silky said brightly, "Our mock villains use rubber bullets instead. You may rest easy knowing that there will be no mortal injury in your exam."

* * *

Screams rose in the air as so-calledrubber bullets sprayed in a wide arc, the mock villain attempting to drive its attackers away. Those who could take the shots stood their ground, but the others less equipped scrambled to avoid the bullets in different ways. Azami chose to hit the deck right as a line peppered the wall behind her, leaving smoking dents in their wake.

"Oh geez. Oh geez, oh geez," she whispered, staring wide-eyed at the three-pointer. It had seemed smaller at orientation… how was she supposed to disable that? What could she do? She had to try _something—_

A girl dashed from among the warier examinees, dodged the robot's thrashing legs to dart underneath the main body, then promptly disengaged. Nothing happened until she skidded to a stop and slammed a single hand against the ground, and the robot promptly crumpled downward. Its legs waved wildly as it attempted to stand but the body seemed to be glued to the pavement— after a fruitless struggle it conceded defeat and powered down. Three points, lost.

All up and down the street were similar scenes of carnage, some more violent than others. All around were points she was missing out on. Azami was incredibly grateful for all the running she'd been doing for months now because she was up and running again, opposite to the chaos. The original plan still stood— even though her heart was hammering in her chest, she had to find a three-pointer on her own and take it down before anyone else got to it. Into a side street she ducked, enveloped by the shadows of the tall buildings. Here and there, lone examinees with apparent similar ideas scrambled across her path, and Azami pushed further into the Outskirts Zone, acutely aware of precious minutes trickling away.

Finally alone. She stopped and took stock of her surroundings; one and three pointers would be hidden until someone found them. The one pointers could hide literally anywhere and she wasn't going to worry about them too much, but the larger three pointers would have a harder time, and theoretically she'd want to be looking at any structure with the potential to hide their bulk, such as the surrounding warehouses or—

Or in the large industrial dumpster off to the side there, which looked like it could hold one if it crouched. She crept forward, eyeing the thing warily. She wasn't about the climb up and wrestled with the covers, but if the three point mock villains were temperamental…

Azami kicked the metal side as hard as she could. First, there was nothing, and then there was a rumble as the dumpster burst open and a mock villain leapt from its hiding place; she'd guessed correctly. As much of a mixed blessing that was. The villain made to run at first, legs skittering madly but stopped, sensing only a single pursuer. The body swiveled around and the turrets swung right around with it, clicking ominously.

So it was just her. Facing down a robot. On her own.

No, she could do this. Information from orientation filtered through her mind; there were handholds on either side of the robot's body, just low enough to reach with a good jump. There was a wire behind the turrets that would power the whole thing down if pulled. She could do it. She could do this! Azami drew in a deep breath, crouched low— and started to run. Straight at the mock villain. Which started moving menacingly forward in response. A wild yell burst from her lips as she darted headlong, mustering all her courage.

" _Aaaaaaahhhh_ —"

" **AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!"**

It felt like she'd run headlong into a wall. Her yell was drowned out in the pure _noise_ that blasted through the street, funneled by the narrow space and tall walls around them. She fell. Clutching her ears, curling up from the pain of the volume, so loud that she couldn't even hear herself think. The three pointer shuddered, also affected from the noise, off-balanced as sensitive equipment inside was disrupted. Then it was over— leaving behind the ringing instead that was almost just as bad.

Eyes blurred with tears, Azami could still see just enough as a small body hauled itself up the side of the robot. Seconds later the robot went down, legs folding in to allow the robot to settle on the ground, officially disengaged.

She'd lost her chance. _Again._

…Her hands felt wet. When she pulled her palms away with shaking arms there were spots of red smeared on them. Staring at the bright color sent an uneasy sensation twisting in her stomach. Probably the shock from the suddenness of it all. Oh geez. Her _ears_ were bleeding.

"… _ey!"_ Was that a voice? It sounded very far away, muted by the ringing, but there were a pair of feet on the ground in front of her; she managed to get a hand on the ground and push herself to her knees, about as much as she could manage when the world seemed a little off balance. The feet belonged to a body. A boy. A boy with blond hair that stuck up, quivering in agitation as he waved at her frantically, mouth moving in a series of sounds she didn't hear at all.

Funny. He seemed familiar.

…glancing over her shoulder, looking at his wrist, there was some clear conflict going through the boy's face. It settled on both sheepish and apologetic as he awkwardly patted her shoulder, and… ran off. It took a moment for it to hit her, and when it did it hit about as hard as the wall of sound had.

"W…wa-wai…"

He'd ditched her. The little jerk ditched her! He hadn't even helped her up! Or asked if she was alright! Well, maybe he did, but he wasn't sticking around to see if it was true. First he'd show up and stolen her points, and now he was just _running off?_ The outrage of it sent Azami shaking as she kneeled on the cold, hard ground, with her ears bleeding and her hearing shot and he had the _nerve—_

Azami tried standing. That was a mistake. As soon as she stood on two feet the ground went sideways. Gritting her teeth, she stumbled forward and... tipped against the deactivated robot, which was… not the way she'd meant to go. But she could still see the boy running down the road in the distance, blurry and fading. She gritted her teeth, pushed away from the robot and—

…veered in the opposite direction again. And across the alley. And into the other alley that happened to lead right into the first one. It was a battle not to fall, her legs wobbly and crisscrossing themselves to keep her up, but Azami finally went down as she collided into a wall with a very large and heavy _clang._

 _Now_ there were stars in her eyes to go with the ringing. Blinking away the dizziness and watery eyes, she lay there this time, staring up at the sky. Clear blue and not a cloud in sight. Probably the only time she'd get to look at the sky from U.A. Academy seeing as how her chances of entry were slipping through her fingers like sand. Much like her current motivation, and Azami stayed down even as the ringing in her ears faded. Hm… now they were more buzzing instead. Or vibrating? Wait, why was her whole body suddenly feeling funny…?

A low rumble filled the air. It rattled the ground, sending pebbles and small debris skittering across the surface and Azami used her newly-restored balance to bolt up right. Squinting against the following head rush, she turned, slowly, to look behind her.

"What," she said.

What formerly had been a corrugated metal panel, a dead end, and the wall she'd crashed into, was lowering into the ground. It hadn't been a wall at all, but a gate. And there was something behind it. Something that loomed above her, taller than the three point robots, as tall as buildings around her.

" _What,"_ Azami said again. Words and images started flashing in her head. Certains words and certain images from not too long ago…

* * *

"Miss!" A girl with a long pony tail raised her hand. "You've spent most of the time talking about the first two robots, but in the booklet there's a third type…"

"Yes, you are correct." Silky nodded at the screen, which changed again to reveal—

Hushed whispers filled the hall. Examinees looked at each other with unease, and only a few seemed unruffled.

"Mock-villain number three. We like to call it the 'Kingpin.' As you can see… it's only worth one point." More murmurs, this time of disbelief.

" _That's_ worth one point?" Azami muttered to Hanao. He only whimpered.

"As the last and the grandest, it's a little harder to hide than the others. They're not _impossible_ to take down, per se, but they are very, very difficult to capture, and they're built to take what's dealt against them. I don't recommend taking them on. There will come a time in your career when it's in your best interest to run and fight another day, and that's why they are worth so little. There's only a few scattered around your testing grounds, anyhow. But they are hidden, and will remain so unless the number of total mock villains drops below a certain level. You see, they're a little protective of their comrades. Then, and only then, will they be… _unleashed."_

One last grin from the pro-hero Silky.

"And that," she said, "Is when the _real_ fun begins."

* * *

"Oh, _shit,"_ Azami said, currently sitting in the shadow of a robot two, three… well over four stories tall. The ground itself shook as the Kingpin began to roll forward, free from its confines at last.

And she was directly in its path.

* * *

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Hello again! Thank you for waiting, and I hope you enjoy! Thank you so much for the nice reviews, and the follows. They really mean a lot. I always jump when I see the alert in my inbox :) I hope you'll stick with this little project of mine, haha.


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